


Christmas Party

by butyoumight



Category: Tokumei Sentai Go-Busters
Genre: AU, Christmas, Future Fic, M/M, RP Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2012-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 20:41:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/601857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butyoumight/pseuds/butyoumight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"You know, I think we're pretty progressive here, but still, that difference in age is a little too much, don't you think?”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Party

**Author's Note:**

  * For [defeatedbyabridge](https://archiveofourown.org/users/defeatedbyabridge/gifts).



> Set in the "[Aibouverse](http://dinohouse.dreamwidth.org/tag/universe:+au:+aibouverse)" RP universe where an Enter-faced Silver Buster Kurosawa Emeric is partners with Gold Buster Jin Masato.
> 
> In the future, in the event that the Avatars get their bodies out of the Subdimension, but after that they (27, and 11) do not age beyond that.

“Have you seen Kuroki-san?”

“And that date of his...”

“So inappropriate.”

“Isn't it? You know, I think we're pretty progressive here, but still, that difference in age is a little too much, don't you think?”

The thing about Energy Management Center Company Christmas parties was that they were mostly only good for the dissemination of gossip between the spouses of the employees.

After nearly fifteen years, most of the employees hadn't been a part of the Center staff during the fight with Vaglass. The struggle hadn't been particularly widely publicized, nor had the victory. So a lot of the new college graduates being employed these days didn't know many of the finer details. They didn't know about some of the people who still showed up at these parties out of a possibly misplaced sense of old obligation.

They didn't know much of anything at all that didn't directly effect their current jobs. And the majority of the history of the Special Missions Department fell under that umbrella.

They certainly didn't know enough to watch their tongues around any children that might be wandering through the party.

Silly fools. Children themselves, a lot of them, in their own ways.

He sidled up to the Commander, standing at attention near the tree, as he always did. Every year. He looked more bored every year.

He looked older every year.

“They're doing it again.” He said softly, taking Hiromu's hand in his own too-small one. “The wives and the husbands,  _parler de merde_  about Masato and Takeshi.”

Hiromu shrugged one shoulder a little. “They don't do it where I can hear, or where they can.”

Emeric's nose wrinkled. “They don't care about  _moi_.”

“Their loss.”

The fondness in his voice made Emeric's heart flutter, but the good feeling didn't last. A woman he only vaguely remembered approached. She tottered on heels that were a few centimeters too high, the ring on her left hand slipped and slid around her finger, as though she had lost too much weight since the wedding.

“Sakurada-san!” Her voice sounded as painful as her too-tight dress looked. “I didn't know you had a son!”

“I do not.” Hiromu answered her softly. He'd learned a certain sense of diplomacy since being promoted when Takeshi finally retired. His hand, so much larger, more callused than it had been that first time Emeric had felt it properly with his own, squeezed Emeric's carefully. “He is... a friend of the family.”

“Oh! Silly me, I'm so sorry.” She leaned down and Emeric lifted his head to look her in the eye. She wasn't the type to recognize the intelligence lurking in his young eyes. “Aren't you very handsome though!”

He swallowed, and bowed awkwardly. “Thank you very much.”

“And such a good boy!” She tittered, standing up again to bow to Hiromu before teetering off, probably in search of another glass of champagne.

Hiromu's hand squeezed his again, and this time Emeric gathered the strength to return the tight grip.

-

They had their own Christmas at Rika-san's house. It was beautiful, large and well appointed, all very indicative of her success as a writer and illustrator. She was very talented.

Above all, the most important part was that she knew, and she understood their relationship.

She prepared only one room when her brother visited. She knew they would share the bed.

“Tonight was  _stupide_.” He whined, perched on the edge of the bed while Hiromu changed into his pajamas. “Why do we still go to that stupid party?”

“I'm the commander now, Emi. I have to be there.”

“No you don't. Special Missions isn't... Isn't hardly anything anymore. They don't even pay you a fraction of what Takeshi used to earn, you know.”

“Well, there's no real special missions, are there?”

Emeric frowned at him as Hiromu approached the bed. “You could do anything you wanted, you know. I'd support you. You don't need to keep working there.”

“It's where I belong.”

Emeric laid down, and Hiromu followed suit, taking both of Emeric's hands in his own and pulling him close. Emeric sighed but he settled, his cheek pressed to Hiromu's chest, feeling his heartbeat. He'd never get tired of that.

“Merry Christmas, 'iromu.” He mumbled against his collarbone. Hiromu wrapped his arms around Emeric's shoulders and gave him a little squeeze.

“I love you, Emi.”

“ _Je t'aime_.” 


End file.
